Phantom Brave Honors
by Creativist
Summary: Ch.3 Marona takes it upon herself to accept Count Malt's invitation to dinner, expecting more then a feast.
1. After a two year threshold

No more than two years have passed since our little Marona saved Ivoire and defeated Sulfur. Many things have changed in Ivoire-- both geographically and socially, but whatever the case, Marona's life style has still remained the same.

Well, maybe with a little change.

* * *

Her eyelids lifted up, revealing her eyes to the sun. The light was rather merciless to her pupils, shining through the window. Marona sat up and rubbed her eyes.

A knock appeared at the door.

"Marona..."

"I'll be out in a minute," said she, in her sleepy ecstasy.

Marona doused her frizzy chartreuse hair with a comb, followed by tying a ponytail with a velvet scrutchy in the back of her head.

Downstairs Ash is seated in the diningroom with his legs crossed, holding the Ivoire times. Ash posing in such a way that he looks like a man in his forties, living a daily routine.

Marona, finally freashened and clean, descends down the stairs, "Ash..." She walks into the kitchen, however her presence doesn't phase Ash in any shape or form.

"Ash...What's wrong?"

He puts down his paper, "Kitty and Rubi are pretty mad at you."

"How come?" She closes in on him.

"They've read the letter, from Cauldron..."

Marona pondered, seemingly looking at the question mark appearing above her head, "Okay...?"

"They're at the mailbox, I told them you would explain why you turned down Cauldron's offer so they would lay off my back," Ash shuffled the Ivoire times, "They're at the mailbox."

"Oh...okay then," Marona shifted her little legs and went out the door.

Ash(an old man in a sense) shuffled his paper yet again, taking his time in reading the many columns of words. Cauldron, ever persistant in his endeavor, appears on the nineth page of Ivoire times, in a public and yet private request, asking Marona to reconsider his offer.

"That Cauldron..." Ash folded his paper, "Marona wouldn't sing in a million years."

* * *

Ahead out of the house, Marona walks towards two far-sighted images standing at the mailbox, presumably Kitty and Rubi, two of the three merchant sisters who live with Marona on Phantom Isle.

The two are dressed simularly and, that being said, sexy and erotically. Pants that reveal the inner parts of the thighs, dark metallic-blue tang-tops and sleeves independent of a torso clothing, with the exception of a few straps tied to the tang-top.

"Maronakins!!!!"

"Marona..."

Excited(and fustrated), Kitty ran for Marona and hooked onto her arm, "Get over here you little devil!"

Without a second to lose, Kitty pulled Marona to the mailbox, "Rubi..."

In reaction, Rubi held up a fancy letter in marona's face, expecting her to read it.

"It's from papa Cauldron," said Marona.

"uh, yea!!" Rubi half-heartedly yelped, "...asking you to reconsider the concert of the braves."

"Why aren't you singing?!!!" Kitty nearly leaped for five seconds.

"Because..."

"Because?" Rubi arched an eyebrow.

"Because... I don't know about the whole concert thing."

Kitty, ecstatic and hyperactive in frustration exclaimed to Marona, "But don't you see the benefits?! You are the savior of Ivoire, do you know how much people would fork over to see our little cutesy brave sing up on stage?" Kitty pinched her cheeks monsterously, "If we make a deal with that old geezer, we'd have enough run for our money to buy condos in the phantom world!"

Rubi nodded, "and those are pret-ty expensive."

"Why is it always about money with you two?"

"Because-"

"Because if it don't make money, then it don't make sense," said the presence of a fourth voice.

Behind Marona stood Florva, in a yellow(or gold) two-piece jumpsuit, with her hands to her hips. She is the last of the three merchant sisters and, hypotheticaally, the leader of the three, not to mention a nigh-inch or two taller then the other two.

She tends to be slightly less chippy then the two, but usually no different then Rubi(at the least).

"Why don't you give it a shot, Maronakins?" Said the golden merchant queen.

"Maronakins!!! Is it a singing issue Maronakins?"

"No it-"

"Here, come..." Kitty pulled Marona closely, "I'll teach you how to sing."

"She doesn't need to learn how to sing, she already has a beautiful voice," said Florva.

"One. Two. Three, repeat after me," Kitty signaled, "One. Two. Three. La L-Laaaa..."

Marona was reluctant to respond.

"Come on Marona baby, repeat after me; One. Two. Three. La La Laaaaa."

Marona sighed, bound by her kind nature, she had no choice.

"La, La, Laaaaa," she sounded dull and unmotivated.

"Come on Marona!!!"

"I don't know..." she sighed and exhaled.

"Your voice is as beautiful as your face, try it," commented Florva, "Go on..."

"Come darling, repeat after me."

"O-okay..."

"La La L-La, Laaaa..."

Marona repeated more gracefully, "La La L-La, Laaaa..."

"Soooo cute!" Kitty pressed her face next to Marona's in a hug.

"Alright, Alright, enough of that Kitty, let Marona practice in her voice a little more," Florva lifted up her hand and chopped the air in signal for Kitty to let go.

"No, that's okay. Really you guys, I'll think about it, okay?" Marona was ready to rid all three of them, "I promise..."

Kitty squinted her face and gave her _the Stare_, but Florva shoved her in the face and proclaimed to Maronakins, "Awright, but I hope it's the answer we want to hear."

The three disapeared, going back to the phantom world, perhaps to do what they do best(extortion and confidence Picasso-ing!)

* * *

Marona and Ash stood at the mailbox, looking at it as if it were an idol.

"Today's sunday Marona, I hope you're not planning on accepting any jobs today..."

"No, not today... I think."

"You think?"

"I just want to hear from any of my friends."

Ash reached far his hand into the mailbox, "I wonder what's going on with Castille."

Marona clasped her hand, emotionally excited, "I haven't heard from Castille in ages!"

"Ages? It's only been a couple of months."

"The last I heard of her she left Vermillion and moved to Monotopia..."

"Why was that again?"

Marona pondered, "I don't know. She didn't say. All she said was she's leaving the Isle of Healing Waters, and I haven't heard from her since.

"I hope she's sent a letter this time."

"Me too, I'm kind of worried."

Ash shuffled the letters between his fingers, tossing out any Job request that could be sent to the chroma guild.

"All of these seem to be Job offerings..."

Marona turned her attention inwardly, as if hearing an inner voice; more or less a sad expression on her part.

"I'm sorry Marona..."

To Ash's surprise, having thought all the mail was in his possession, a few bottlemails marched out of the mailbox.

"Fan Club 'Zine issue twenty-three!! For Marona!" Said a Clear, crisped water-colored bottlemail, in a whimsical and squeaky voice.

"I'll be on my way!"

Ash received the fan club magazine, "take care."

The next Sea mail bottle, red and filled with fancy gold paper, was next in line to jump into Ash's hand.

"Telegram for Marona!!"

"From who?" Replied our little Brave.

Ash popped the cork open to receive whatever fancy bread this Entrepreneur endowed to them.

...His time and patience knew no bounds as he read the letter to his self, so lost was he in his introverted world that he didn't even take notice in the appearance of Fai and Parmevia.

Fai is donned with long pale white, purplish-hinted hair streaming down to her lower back.

Her dress is somewhat wide—cone-shaped wise and redish- orange, with a ring of yellow at the lower tip of her dress.

Her sneakers are simularly colored, and are rather big. Her favorite hobby is reading fanclub magazines, hence her appearance in this scene.

Parmevia is more or less her fusionary assistant who always follows her around; a stray puttyshaman who shines vividly through her colorful leaf garments.

"It's a curtain invitation," said Ash, finally, after a minute that seemingly held an eternity.

"What's that?" Asked Fai. From the looks of it, Marona moved up next to Fai and Parmevia, sharing in the curiosity.

Ash turned to look at her, "A courteous dinner invite."

"From where?"

"Vapor Island..."

"From who?"

"From Count Malt."

"The Count?" Supplemented Marona, getting in closer to look on with Ash.

Silence filled the area as they both skimmed the work of literature. The seas were the only loud voices heard.

...Daintily, Fai(and Parmevia) tip-toed towards the two and slipped the magazine from the mailbox gently, "I just came to get this," she said quietly, unbeknowing to Ash and Marona.

"Bye..."She said, before walking away while turning to the first page.


	2. Phantom Hijinks

A few days have come by since our last meeting. Currently, Marona and Ash have gone away for the day forfilling job requests sent to them, leaving the phantoms to mingle in whatever Shenanigans that may come about on this cosmopolitan island. It was a pretty active day.

* * *

Vladmir is up on the balcony inspecting and admiring the Heliotrope used in defeating Sulfur, while the remainder of guys: Suma, Raulen, and Bananza, have brought out the small coffee table from the house to play a game of cards.

Marronnae, the amazon, sits on the surplus of shade provided by a plam tree, with a beasty-cuddly Manticore halfly resting on her thigh and halfly on his paw.

A second four-legged beast, a fenrir, approachs the silent and serene Amazon, cuddling close to her as she raises her hand to fond its head.

Parmevia is being chased by a quick-tempered funguy for unknown reasons, bringing chaos and annoyment to anyone they make contact with.

Seth sits on top of the house, introspecting his dishonorment in his past life, with two owl swordmasters sharing the same oblong-shaped space, clashing with sacred swords carved from a sacred grove.

On the warm sandy side of the beach island, Lazilina stands there pointing at the sun while giving an explanation to Raine unknown to our ears.

And finally, Koe, the mystic born out of mystery, paradoxed with confusion and cursed with undying silence, sits there, at the once lit camp fire area infront of the house, encircled by stones. Never talking, never observing the other phantoms, only trapped in everlasting meditation, trapped in the darkness of his covered eyes.

* * *

"Who's up for a game of Shogi after this?" Replied Bananza, with his deep air bursting voice, breaking the silence and tension at the coffee table.

Bananza, known as the grim titlist, is fashioned with pale red hair, curving back ending at his neck. He sports a grim frown that reveals a bit of wisdom in his part, not to mention many wrinkles.

"I'm done after this," Suma slammed his cards on the table, in a triumphed manner, "take this, fools!"

His big hands shook the table. Suma was a very big man, perhaps bigger then Cauldron.

His belly protruded outward, however his arms and legs were fine and masculine, he stood taller then most phantoms, if not all. His eyes wore dark jazzy glasses, his feet wore big wooden clogged sandles, his head wore absolutely nothing-- not even hair, with the exception of a little peach fuzz on the sides, and his lips met with a mustache with pointy tips and bold shave in through the middle, sporting a unique goatee

"Har Har Har, Yet again I win! Give me my money! Chumps!"

"I swear, if you're cheating..." Raulen reached into his pocket, pulling out bourdeaux bills and flinging them on the table.

Raulen's hair color is the same as Fai's: white purplish-hinted. It's very short, frizzy, and tough. Despite his rough skinny arms, he holds power enough to crush rock into diamond; it can be said his arms are diamond-made themselves as he pounds on newly-born steel with his hard fist.

"Remember this you old fool," replied Bananza, "when the scrabbit runs, the scrabbit falls, leaving an opening chance for the fenrir to kill..." Bananza stood up, with staff in hand.

"Where do you think you're going? Where's my money?" Asked Suma, scratching the table surface.

"Here's your money..." He pointed his staff and struck Suma with lightning, an epic darkness filled the background while playing cards fluttered out Suma's vest and into the air.

The darkness subsided.

"This game is a seven-card stud," said the grim titlist, deciding to join the owl magic casters in their time of napping in the shade, "try not to make much noise."

Raulen's eyes arched inward as he saw the fake cards disinigrating.

* * *

Marronnae looked at the situation as if it were a bad joke, "I can't stand men sometimes..." By this time her two four-legged friends were sleeping, she would attempt to do the same...

However, back from the phantom world, appeared Kitty, with all bunch of gadgets overflowing her knapsack.

"Hi Marronnae!! How's my favorite customer today?" A dragon tooth dropped out of her knapsack, "Oh! Hey, that rhymes," she smiled.

Not smiling, however, was Marronnae. Tiresome, she lifted herself up, "Oh gosh, not you again," After a quick stretching, she stepped over her Fenrir in attempt to get away from Kitty.

"No, wait!" She tripped in her haste to stop Marronnae, "Wait! Don't you wanna see what I have?"

"No!" The angry Amazon stopped and turned, "Swindling cheap ass!"

"Whaaaaat?" Kitty Moaned. She got up, "Don't you like me anymore?"

"My psychiatrist put me on medication because of you, I'm feeling stress building already..." her vision grew numb and she held her head.

"Clearance day sales are the best remedy for any ailment."

"I'm tired of your lies and stories..." Her dizziness took a toll, perhaps her conscious had already taken a leave in absence...

_Kill her..._

_Swindling cheap ass..._

_Clearance sale..._

"Another clearance sale?" The temptation to faint lingered ever so closely, "Ugh... Too much coffee. Too, much, Kitty. Where...are my pills?" As temptation lingered closer, the distance between the two females lingered wide and long.

"Damn clearance sales, I'll kill her."

* * *

Fai and Sari Lunesa set their sights on Koe, watching his animated body float a few feet from ground level.

"Gee, I sure wish I was psychic," says the envious Witch.

"But if you were, you'd say you wish you were a witch," Knowing Sari, Fai would have a definate point. Neither pair of eyes would plan to let go of the mystical sight of Koe.

"Naw I wouldn't," finally, one of them broke the spellbinding sight and looked away. Sari squinted down brushed the sand between her fingers; a childish way of digging, "I mean, cursing people is cool, but taking someone's hand and making them slap themselves with it is hella funny!" She fell on her butt and laughed, "Now that's priceless."

Meanwhile, Fai smiles at her, "I bet."

"Fai..." Approaching from far ahead was an Amazon, "Fai..."

"Hm...?"

She looks like a person who's had one too many shots of hard liquor as she stumbles on her own two feet. It looks convincing and rather pathetic to Fai, seeing her this way, though it is a big misunderstanding. Sari Lenesa takes intiative to step back, _Nothing worst then a drunk amazon,_ thinks she, reflecting on past memories.

"Fai, where the hell are my pills?" As said in a timid manner.

"Oh? Farris has them now..."

"Are you drunk?" Splatted out Sari.

"No...haven't touched an ounce of Vintage since death," She slumped down to her butt moaning a regretful symphony, "Awww, I can't walk any further... I can't even shout anymore."

"I'll go get her for you," Fai's appearance was no more.

Sari looked at the dizzy amazon, knowing something was misplaced in her head, "You suuure you're not drunk?"

"I told you!" Sand climbed up the towers of gravity reacting to Marronnae's vendictive pound, though her anger quickly died, "I hadn't touch a glass since I was dead." She continued holding her head.

Sari was Non-chalant, unrefined to the sudden burst of anger. She looked at Marronnae, shortly after she continued playing in the sand, "Now the sand is mad at you."

"Let it be mad," Her head orbited again.

"Hey, speaking of death," Sari got up and patted her Santa dress, "How'd you die? Was it in a epic battle?"

Marronnae smiled in relief, "No, it wasn't in no epic battle. But don't I wish it were."

"I wish I hadn't died at all!"

"Yea..." Marronnae used her Feminine Amazon arms to slide her butt closer to Sari, "I got cought up by a man and taken from Yggdrasil Gardiana to the city life. Said he made a bet that he could turn a jungle girl into a city lady for just one bourdeaux."

"One! Just one?!"

"Yea..." Marronnae leaned back with her elbow into the sand, "Everything was fine until he slapped me once, then I took a sword and stuck it in his gut...and left."

Sari squinted at the mere thought, "Where'd the sword come from?"

"From his sword collection," She was just about in total relaxation, smiling at her own words and throwing her hand off as if blowing a kiss, she shrugged, "Yea... Then I got acquainted with city life for about two weeks before I died. I fought the Cobalt BOOZE lady and her amazons the day I died, in a fancy bar."

"BOOZE!!"

"But its funny," her expression withered into sulking now... "Even though I lost...and lived, despite all the crazy things I did, I end up falling in a ditch... and dying. Go figure, God's playing with my emotions," The sulky amazon sighed.

"That sucks," Non-chalantly said by Sari. "So how'd you get such big boobs?"

Like the topic at hand, Marronnae's expression took a turn too, "I'm twenty-eighty, you're thirteen. If you'd only waited six more years before dying, you could of probably had them like mine."

"That sucks," said in a Non-chalant manner by the envious Witch, though she hides her envy in the sands, digging ever so deeper, "They're not that big anyway..."

"They're more then you'll ever have," Marronnae cracked up in laughter there after, feeling no remorse to Sari Lunesa's pouting and grudge-holding face. However, her burst of happiness quickly died out, "I could sure go for a smoke right now," again, sulking behind whatever thought holding her back from bliss and cheer, she sighed, "Why do phantoms feel emotion?"

"I don't know, I'm thirteen, you're twenty-eight, why don't you tell me?"

"Smart ass."

Farris startles the Amazon as she pats her shoulders, "Here..." She hands the Amazon her pills, though the Amazon rejects, claiming to be fine now.

"I sure love fire," commented Sari.

* * *

Day break has arrived, with no sign of Marona or Ash coming ashore. Many of the phantoms have decided to call it a day and return to their phantom world, while others have decided to stick around. Farris, the alleged caretaker of the island, passes her time by hanging dry Marona's cloths on a clothsline. It consist of mostly dresses of the same style. Just as she applies a clothspin, she pauses. A faint carasol musical is heard; she looks to the sides tragically, as directed by her fear. Soon the carasol music is accompanied by the sounds of a collapsing structure, and then a momentary cry of a boy that silences everything.

"Farris, get a grip on yourself, you poor thing," says Farris, as she starts taking off the dresses from the clothsline and speed-folds them before placing them in the basket.

She notices her mistake, as the dresses still felt damp to her. She begins hanging up the dresses again, until the sound of music is heard-- the same Carasol melody, following the same collapsing noises—all destroyed with the end of a boy's cry.

"Why are you doing this to me..." She clutches on Marona's damp dress, enduring internal pain.

"Lord... I hope she's okay," she clamps on tighter, until she takes a deep breath.

"Farris..."

She turns around frantically, only to see Seth a few feet behind her.

"Oh... you gave me a startle..." the relief of panic placed a smile on her face, "what is it dear?"

"May I help?" Said he after a pause.

Seth was fashioned with a red hankerchief around his neck, his silver hair shot back as if a stilled picture of it were taken in strong winds. Oviously, like a traditional ninja, he wore black baggy pants, a slim knitted dull-silver shirt with a black vest laced up over tighty, and black mocassins. He looked young, perhaps the age of twenty-two.

"Sure... come on," she clipped the clothspin, "two pairs of hands will make things quicker, lord knows I could use the help around here."

"Seth moved in close to her, "some of these are dry."

"No, no," she bent to retrieve a dress from the basket, "I just put them up there."

Seth scoped Farris' body from head to toe, be it a look made out of lust and desire, or be it a look of deeper reason...

He clipped a clothspin, "Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?"

"Clean, wash; like her maid, or her mother or whatever seeming..."

Farris pauses, following Seth's every move in the corner of her eye. She snaps the dress in the air, defending herself with a very long term of silence. However, it backfires and places her mind in an uneasy position. "For Marona..."

"What?" Seth has already forgotten the question.

"You ask me why I always do chores. Well I'm telling you, I do it for Marona. I can never say no to that little darling face of hers."

"Does she even ask?" He hung the last dress, _I can swear these are dry_. Both of them continued to avoid eyes at each other.

"No... She doesn't," She clenched Marona's outfits; the carasol comes back with a vengence.

"Are you Okay?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry..." She tries to look busy, smoothing out any rinkles she can find.

Seth thought about asking more question, but he didn't want to stress her anymore then she was.

"Don't overdo it... Ms.Farris," said he.

Farris smiled, she turned to him to speak, but her eyes cought sight of something in the horizon, coming towards the island.

"That must be Marona," she picked up her long red skirt a little ways and walked pass Seth, towards the shores.

As Farris has exited, Fai has entered the scene.

"Hey..."

"Hey."

She attempts to take down the laundry, but Seth grabs her arm, "Don't take them down."

"But they're dry..."

"I know. Farris wants Marona to learn responsibility."

"Oh... I'm sorry then," she tries to adjust the dress she pulled. "Sorry..." but by then Seth has already gone away.


	3. Infamous Cabaret Meeting

At last we left our little Marona and our prominent phantom, the two leading bodies of a tropical world inhabited by a slight population unforseen by any prophet or naked eye, a request courtesy of count Malt was retrieved asking of a favor of our island queen's presence. A couple of days have passed by since, lost in the twilight of time.

Through recreation exchange, hence its grasp of title as one of the richest islands in the world-- if not the richest.

However, it went on pretty differently during the resting hours of the sun.

For one, it was a lot less misty, which revealed the shimmerinof space, we begin our Brave's story in arrival to Vapor island.

Vapor island usually holds for business g lights through the many windows of the fortress building, lights so bright it overshadowed the stars.

Through the entrance of the multistory mega building, the first floor consisted of a social gathering. Its presence would seem to be a party, but in reality it was just the lobby area. However, many would wonder where the wine glasses came from if it were an area mainly for information. Noble owls and wolfs danced a sailor's daze and as sloppy as it were, not a one would put down their drinks.

Marona's eyes couldn't help but be in a state of confusion, "Um... Are we in the right place?" Her sight shifted to the ecstatic madness all around.

_This place is different during the Night_, Ash was the one who had to be worried, as it was hard not to bump into anybody. He stayed in his phantom form as he always does. "I guess people are still celebrating after two years."

"Yep."

After an endless journey through the hordes of nobles, our heroes made way to the all-knowing prophet, seated among the highest of chairs and tables, as if a judger of truth.

"May I help you?" Said the mighty funguy, unknowing of their presence as he etches ink into his book of invites.

"Uuhhh..." Her thoughts were lost through the chaos, "Ummm..."

"We're here for the dinner invite," Ash whispered, "Did you forget?"

"Oh...right," Marona turned her attention to the funguy, "Can you--"

"Oye!! You're Marona, aren't you?"

He cought Marona by surprise and shocked her nerves up to focus, "Yes, i'm Marona," she bowed to the high funguy, "It's nice to meet you."

"'It's nice to meet me' she says," the high funguy bellyached, "Can I get your autograph, the kids'll get a cap outa this one!"

"An autograph...?" Its been two years since Marona defeated Sulfur, but surprisingly this would be the first time she's been asked for an autograph. She turned to Ash to which he said, "Go ahead, you deserve it."

She patted down her body for a pen and paper-- of course, she didn't have.

"The entire family's in your fanclub, even our newborn," he stretched out his arm to hand her a pen and a few sheets of papers, "'ere, spore me some of your legacy if you may."

"Gladly," said Marona, summoning the inner depts of happiness in her heart.

"Make then out to Jimmydew, Sunny, Chloryphil, Weedion, sporus, and Phungice, if ya may please."

As much as Ash really wanted to get things rolling(and get the hell out of that lobby), he held his self back from saying anything, knowing Marona was still enjoying her new life of acceptance.

"Here you go," Marona handed the material to the stretched out arm.

"Thank you so much. You wriggle my roots Marona, I'll never forget how better you are in person."

"Thank you..." she was at a lost for words, promptly from the over indulgance of praise and honor she just received. She felt alittle embarrassed.

"No, thank you. How may I fung you this eve?"

"Can you tell me where I can meet the count?"

"the count?"

"Yes, he sent me an invitation."

"If you're sporin' for Count Malt, he's on the fourth floor in a Cabaret."

Again, as if her natural look, Marona spores herself a look of confusion, "Uuuh okay..."

"Heck, I'll even send ya one of my caplings to go with you," the seemingly gitty funguy spouted a miniture self from his mushroom, leaving a slight aroma of vintage rose seeping out.

"How cute," Marona looked down on it like the sexy goddess she is.

"No worries Marona, I'll be your guide for this evening, follow the fungking!"

"Thank you," she said to the true and mighty Funguy while disapearing through the crowd. Once again perched on his seated throne as if to say he was the all-knowing and all seeing god-- or rather, Fungod.

And off our heroes travelled once again, with their prophetic funguide to show them the way pass the many trials of strife. Through the rivers of vintage Saschen did they swim, over the pits of noble owl drunkards did they jump, and pass the fields of chaos they crossed until finally, after a long and hard treck did they reach the massive room of the cabaret; with nothing but a gigantic wine stain on Marona's dress to show for her perilous adventure.

"This is it."

Our heroes were too tired to say anything, it was a wonder how they cought up with the funguy through the masses, but they did it.

"I'll be on my way, goodnight," said the little capling before turning into spores and violet bubbles, again resembling the aroma of vintage rose.

The massive doors were already open, so Marona took the initiative of walking in.

* * *

Assumingly, as the reader, you would suspect a dinner invite would grant nothing short of a dining setting, and so oviously it is. The usual dining noises of forks and loud whispers can be heard, and other silver wears clinging at different pinches of sound. Many tables are present, as it is a massive room, and though it may seem like another formal five-star restaurant, the only thing seperating it from its predecessor would be that of a large stage built at the entire back of the room. 

Hence the name cabaret.

Marona wandered the tables looking around for her destination. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Since it was a little bit more peaceful and relaxing in this room, the many nobles took initiative to spot the chartreuse haired girl in a commoner's dress with a blotchy stain on it.

Marona knew how much she stuck out and felt uneasy with the many eyes staring at her.

As usual in restaurants, gossips cracked and creeked, colliding and forming oblonged sounds that no eardrum-- be it human, demon, or scrabbit, could ever interpret. However, when the many pairs of eyes took into realization of who this commoner was, gossip no longer creeked, but orchestrated about Marona in its whispery tone. It wasn't a commoner, it was a Brave.

"Ash..." Marona's eyes wondered around the room like an innocent little girl, "I don't want to be here anymore."

"Huh? I thought you liked the attention."

"Yea..." Marona exhaled, as if from exhaustion, "but not like this. And my dress is all stained too..."

"Well... we cant leave now. We've come this far," how right you were prominent phantom, facing perils no mere phantom could face to get to your standing ground, "Besides, it'd be rude to turn down the count's invitation without proper notice."

"Yea, I guess you're right," she sighed, knowing everything was against her will, even the stain in her dress, which now completely settled in.

After a few more minutes of wandering, Marona finally approaches her destination, "Count Malt... Ms. Sienna?"

"Ah, Marona, you finally made it. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come."

"Sorry, I didn't realize how late we were," Marona obliged herself to a seat.

"Is Ash with you?" Replied Sienna.

"I'm right here," a blue orb of light glinted faintly and momentarily, "I just don't want to make a scene."

"I see..." Sienna finished the bit of ginger vexxen left in her wine glass.

With a hand motion, Carmine signaled a waiter to come over to his table.

"By all means I'm not really hungry," Marona said.

"Really?" Carmine twisted his fuzzy mustache, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," She nodded her head formally, "but more importantly..."

Perhaps it was an arduous meeting on Marona's part. She sort of huddled in her seat unintentionally and shot her head down towards the edge of the table while an imaginative poparazzi took pictures of her a thousand times a second.

Staying in that room was too much on that little girl's heart, and Ash could see her cracking up in a nervous disposition. He could feel what she felt; the numerous amount of eyes crawling up her back and the level of embarrassment rising above her neck.

Ash took the initiative to save Marona, before she started to mumble her way into an early grave, "We're just wondering what the job offer is going to be. We're pretty busy throughout the week," he placed his hand on Marona's shoulder, "Isn't that right Marona?"

"Huh...? Yea, r-right."

After count Malt's response, silence lingered for a long while. This must have raised the embarrassment level up to Marona's ears.

But sooner or later, Scarlet begins to speak, "Marona, have you noticed how Iviore has changed?"

"Huh? A little bit. People are a lot more happier now ever since Sulfur was sealed away--"

"No, thats not what I ment."

The waiter came, already with a bottle of ginger vexxen, predicting what Scarlet would order ahead of time. If he expected what she wanted, how many glasses did she actually have?

Scarlet continued after the waiter leaves, "The geography, the islands, don't you think its strange?"

"What is?"

her look alone said, 'You don't get out much, do you?'

"Islands are moving at an exponential rate, or haven't you noticed? I've had to redesign Bottlemail routes at least six times during the last few years."

"You want me to find out the problem?"

"No, that's not it. I don't think you're well suited for a task like that Marona," Sienna hushed, wanting Count Malt to take the lead.

And so he obliged, "There's an island, far west in the Vermillion region. About eighteen months ago, During an inspection on Mt.Kazan, the celeste clan witness a purple light far out in sea. At first, my people speculated Sulfur was trying to return, so naturally I went to see for myself. But instead, I found an island amid the sea. My clan has tried numerous attempts to go, but the islanders are very strict about visitations. Have you heard of the island Marona? Its called Sacred."

"No."

"Marasaki took it upon himself to explore the island," said Seinna, "for business purposes, but he hasn't returned--"

A man overshadowed Marona from behind, wearing pure white mail and donned with long shimmering blonde hair and a chiselled face.

"Excuse my lateness," said he, perfectly. Marona turned around in astonishing dumbfoundedness in not reckognizing(or perhaps reckognizing all too well) his voice.

"I hope you haven't started without me."

"How could we?" Replied Sienna.

He took a seat, more closer to Marona then anyone else, "It's good to see you again Marona."

"I'm glad to see you too Raphael, you look the same as before."

"As do you. My skills have been polished so I hope we could have that friendly duel one day."

Marona's eyes turned clockwise around the room, "Uh...One day."

"My point being..." said Sienna, shaking the foundation of conversation, "I want you to go find Marasaki, he should be at Sacred... hopefully."

"Raphael, we were hoping that you would allow Marona to accompany you," said Count Malt.

"Accompany me? Where would we be going exactly?"

"To Sacred... hadn't I posted you?"

"I'm sorry Count malt, I was late sending my telegram, I have to humbly reject your offer."

"Really...?"

"I am trying eagerly to reassemble the White Wolfs, as we are still not up to par with the other Ravens."

"Oh well," said Sienna, "Maybe next time you won't disband in such hasty terms."

Raphael laughed sheepishly, standing from his seat, "No, I still do not regret my decision, it may have been selfish on my part, but in time it will prove deserving for my services for Iviore."

"Are you leaving so soon Raphael?"

"I am, perhaps next time we can all have a more formal meeting."

"Yea..." Marona too agreed, standing up from her seat, "I'm sorry Ms.Sienna, but I'm busy throughout the week."

"You too Marona?" She gulped down the rest of the ginger Vexxen.

"I'm always busy; I have to schedule my meetings I'm so busy."

"I see... I'm sorry you can't stay longer."

"I hope Marasaki comes back."

"...Hopefully."

After all bid their adieux, Raphael and Marona walk off, engaging conversation.

Until...

"Hello Daaaaaarlings!!!!"

The lights dimmed and the cabaret doors closed.

Marona, such the country bumbkin she is, frantically looked around while filling her stomach with confusion.

"It seems...It has already begun," informed Raphael.

"What?" Asked Marona, following the spotlights that were moving around aimlessly.

"The show... It looks likes we can't leave now... and by a split second too," Raphael was highly troubled, as his presence was far from the expiration time. "I have to be somewhere, but... if there's no way to leave, I guess I might as well stay. What say you Marona?"

"Is there absolutely no way?" Marona pepped, unforseen was Ash, stepping behind her, "The doors are locked."

"Once the show starts, the doors lock for an hour, thus my hasty departure. Shall we?" Raphael stuck out his mail-covered elbow, inviting Marona to wrap her arm around his arm, "Lets say we decided to stay a little bit longer."

"Okay." When Marona accepts his arm hesitantly--while also making it a priority to hide her stain behind his mail, they were sedate and slow moving in retiring back to Count Malt's seat.

Hey buddy, watch who you put your hand on... if you know what's good for you.


End file.
